A Moment In The Life
by Kat Ducat
Summary: After the war, Hermione goes out one night to think about life and Ron joins her. They make some interesting conclusions.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This was written for the one word prompt competition on the HPFC forum with the word being 'river'. It takes place a few months after the war (c. 1997)._

_I hope you enjoy it. :)_

)O(

Ron was rummaging around his room at the Burrow for a clean pair pants when a light from outside startled him. It was night-time, but he couldn't sleep and needed something to keep him busy, so he'd started cleaning his room and hoping something more interesting would turn up. A welcome distraction in sight, he walked over to the window and saw that the source of light was dim and a few hundred metres away from the Burrow, somewhere near the bank of a river which flowed past the Weasleys' house. Since the war, he knew that crime rates had dropped but he still had a certain measure of distrust for anything that lurked in the dark. Wanting to find out what was going on and disregarding any kind of warnings his brain was sending him, Ron grabbed his wand and went out of his room, stepping down the stairs quietly so as not to awaken anyone.

Outside, the air chilled him to the bone. Shivering in his fluffy slippers, Ron stumbled down to the magical boundary around the house. Holding his breath, he stepped over it. When a spell failed to hit and incapacitate him, Ron breathed a sigh of relief and continued walking to the river, the shining moon aiding him on his path. Nearing the light, Ron became suddenly weary. "This might be a trap," he thought, "there must be some Death Eaters who weren't caught." He was a few metres away from the light now, which he saw was coming not from a wand but from an old oil lamp he recognized from the Burrow's kitchen. Ron relaxed somewhat. If the person who took it had access to the Burrow, then they were either so powerful they could have killed everyone in it by now or they were friendly. Hoping it was the latter; Ron sauntered down to the figure sitting on the sandbank and joined it on the ground.

A girl's voice pierced the freezing air. "Have you ever noticed" she said, "how fast our lives are moving?" She turned away from staring at the depths of the ever-raging river and stared at him instead. Hermione's face shone with tears in the moonlight and her eyes were imploringly looking into Ron's.

"I mean to say," she wiped her eyes while Ron watched mutely, "that, well, it seems like I was fighting the Death Eaters only a few days ago, that, when I think about it, I can still picture your face when I told you your nose was dirty in our first year. I remember that moment and I know it was a long time ago, but I just don't know where all that time went."

"You probably spent most of it studying. Not a very memorable thing to do."

"Ron, I'm trying to be serious here."

"But Sirius is dead."

"Ron!" Hermione stood up and stamped her foot in frustration. Her tears were flowing quicker now and her temper was wearing thin.

"Alright, alright, cool down Hermione. Merlin's soggy underpants, I'm just trying to cheer you up. You've been kind of distant lately. You know, not snogging me all the time. Mind you, I don't want it to be like it was with Lavender, but a little something every once in a while couldn't hurt."

"Maybe I don't want to be with you anymore" Hermione said this quietly, almost in a whisper, and a change came over Ron.

"What? But it's supposed to be all good now. I thought you loved me." Ron was visibly perplexed as he struggled to understand. "You said you loved me."

"I know Ron, but I - I just don't want to be stuck in one place for the rest of my life. I want to have more memories, as many memories as my mind can hold. I can't bear to think that I'll suddenly turn eighty and my entire life will seem like no more than a moment, gone in the blink of an eye, you know?"

Ron stood up next to her and held Hermione tight in his arms. "Hey" she didn't respond, "hey, look at me" Hermione obliged and looked at Ron, who was gazing uncharacteristically tenderly back at her. "You've risked your life countless times. You've helped defeat Voldemort. You got all your OWLs at Outstanding level. You can be anyone and do anything and you're the brightest witch of your age. But personally, I don't think there's a better place in the world than Hogwarts or the Burrow. If you can find one, I'll eat my dress robes." Hermione let out a small laugh and hugged Ron with all the strength she had. "You were doing fine up to until that last sentence. You might want to prepare more thoroughly for your speech next time. I can give you some notes."

"No need, I've got all the notes I need in this old noggin." Ron tapped his head, inciting another laugh from Hermione. "You see? I got you all cheered up and there's nothing you can do about it."

Hermione smiled and said playfully, "That doesn't mean I still have to love you."

"Oh yes it does," by now Ron was veritably grinning, and with this last pronouncement he put his face right up to Hermione's, "and it means that I have no choice but to love you back." His lips crossed the distance of the last few centimetres between them and met Hermione's with a passion.

Some moments later, they unlocked lips and blushed. Even though it was several months since the Battle of Hogwarts and their first kiss, Hermione never stopped feeling as if she was doing something illicit. And Ron? Well, Ron still never failed to be amazed by Hermione. He worried that his sister's remark about him having the experience of a 12-year old would always be true, however much experience he actually got. Even now he was internally cringing about what he'd said about love.

By now a faint light had started to creep over the grassy horizon. "We should be getting back, I suppose. You know, to get some sleep before we have to go to work" said Ron.

"I don't feel like going to sleep when you've just made me feel so alive." Hermione sat back down on the riverbank and stared pointedly at the river. The water was flowing with an urgency, as if it wanted to go somewhere. The rocks in the river were covered with algae, making it seem as if they had hair. For a minute, Hermione vaguely wondered about the algae's visual similarity to hair. Was that what merchildren used to adorn their dolls? Did mergirls even have dolls? She must find out sometime.

Hermione understood why witches couldn't cross running water twice. It was not because of some kind of superstition; it was because witches were naturally big thinkers and could figure out that the water they just crossed was now far away, new water replacing it every second. No-one could cross running water twice unless they could care enough to keep up with it.

Ron sat down beside Hermione, determined to stay with her for as long as he could before he had to go. "Do you know why I came down here in the first place?" she asked. Not waiting for an answer, she replied, "I was having a dream. In it, there was this blank place with a river smack in the middle of it. I jumped in the river, and it was exactly like I'd just jumped into a pensieve. I could see a moment of my life. Don't ask me what it was; I can't remember now, but it was wonderful. I kept jumping out and jumping in. And when I woke up, I realized that the river was a metaphor for life. The past is gone, the water you've crossed, and the future is just a glimmering thing on the horizon. It may not make much sense now, but it made perfect sense at the time. So I came down here."

Ron pondered over this deep-mindedness of Hermione's and decided he wasn't going to be able to understand it however hard he tried. "It makes sense to me" he said and kissed Hermione on the forehead. By now she had her head on his shoulder and was lost in thoughts of her own. Sitting together, they watched the sun gradually creep higher and higher, light diffusing the darkness away. A brand-new day was dawning upon them. A brand-new stretch of river ran next to them, keeping to a pattern only it was familiar with.

Each second signalled the passing of time. With each second, Ron and Hermione aged.

)O(


	2. Epilogue

Epilogue

)O(

Hermione sat up in bed and looked blearily at the man lying beside her. She'd gone to sleep early, utterly exhausted, and Ron had to make his own way to bed. She noticed that he'd fallen asleep in his clothes again, not bothering to shower or put on some pyjamas. She bet that he'd also forgotten to brush his teeth. With a shudder instilled by parents long dead, Hermione thought about the bacteria that must, even now, be breaking down her husband's teeth. Sighing, she got up and hobbled over to the fire to ask Mimsy, their house-elf, to prepare breakfast. Over the years Hermione had managed to create more freedom for house-elves, so they didn't have to come when called and could hold more regular working hours. Mimsy was properly employed, she thought proudly, and very happy with her work too. Every Sunday at 2 o'clock in the afternoon Hermione sat down with her house-elf at the kitchen table and they knitted together. Mimsy was working on a hat, specially designed to accommodate her long ears.

Now that she was ninety-seven, Hermione looked back on parts of her life and smiled. She'd managed to achieve everything she wanted to do when she was seventeen. House-elves had more rights, Voldemort was so dead that all that remained of him these days was in history books, the Ministry of Magic was totally re-ordered, and she still had Ron. He'd been with her every step of the way on a difficult journey, but what she remembered most was that time shortly after the war when they talked about life. Smiling, she recalled her passionate arguments about how there was so little time and she didn't want to waste a second of it. What a naïve girl she'd been! She knew that you had all your life to do what you wanted to do, but what really mattered was how much you enjoyed yourself. In her youth, Hermione had had plenty of experiences that gave her joy, but now she felt too tired to do anything. There must be a capacity to the fullness of life. She'd lived hers well, so all she had to do now was to wait to die. In the meantime however, Hermione could still do a little something for someone else. After all, who was to say when life was supposed to end?

Even magic can't cure the inevitable. When her time came, she would go. She only hoped that Ron would not accompany her this time, as he'd done countless others. He still had some life left in him.

She could see her place in the river and it was coming closer...closer...closer… Soon, the water would welcome her back and take her out to sea.

Who knew what lay beyond the sea?

)O(

_Fin_


End file.
